Coward
by Irk The Waffle
Summary: Mike's emotions have been on a steady decline, and they finally hit their lowest when he ends up lashing out at Zoey. While Mike tries to cope with what he's done, someone in his head doesn't want him to forget...


**This fic is inspired by the song "Coward" by Assemblage 23. It doesn't use a lot of lines verbatim, so it doesn't count as a songfic and I'm well within the rules... but if not for that song, this fic never would have happened. Before reading, I recommend tracking it down and listening to it. It's not necessary, but it could help set the mood, and hey, it's a good song anyway. I mean, if you like dark, broody synthpop.**

* * *

She relaxed in his arms, her eyes closed with peace, her breathing light and calm. Her body radiated a soothing heat against his skin, and her light smile beamed with a happiness she only ever expressed when she shared moments like this with him. His hand absentmindedly combed through her bright red hair, its soft texture brushing against his fingertips.

Mike couldn't feel any of this.

Zoey arrived at his house that afternoon, ready to spend the weekend with him. His parents had made themselves scarce for those three days, to give Mike space to establish independence. He was seventeen years old, after all; it couldn't be bad for him to spend the occasional weekend alone, so when he made this request, his parents happily obliged. Your average teenage boy, when given an empty house with no one else but his girlfriend, would milk every second of the experience for all its worth.

But for Mike, it was as if a shield had sprung up around his brain and blocked off any emotion, for better or for worse. He had the vague sense that he _should_ be happy about all this; he had Zoey alone in his house! They'd done everything they usually did on her visits, by ordering dinner, watching a movie, and in that very moment, listening to music and cuddling. One of Mike's favorite love songs had come up on the playlist they put together, and in a normal situation, he would have started kissing her by now.

And yet, even the idea of making out with his girlfriend meant nothing to Mike in this state.

"Are you okay?"

Mike snapped out of his internal worries at the sound of her voice. She'd pulled away from him, and now stared into his eyes, her forehead creased.

"Mike?" she asked. "Is that you?"

"Yeah. It's me," he answered, not putting much emotion into the response.

"What's wrong?" Zoey asked as she rubbed his back. Yet another action Mike couldn't react to no matter how he tried.

"Nothing," Mike answered. "Come here. I wanna hold you..."

Zoey remained in place. "You're not acting like you want to," she said. "Mike, talk to me..."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"I can tell something's wrong."

"No there isn't."

"Mike!" Zoey's voice rose in frustration. "Please, you've been acting distant all day, and I'm worried... why are you lying to me?"

"I'm not lying," Mike said, his own annoyance showing through. On one hand it was a relief for him to finally feel some vestige of emotion, but this wasn't the emotion he had in mind. "I swear, nothing's wrong with me. I'm fine."

"You can be honest with me-"

"Zoey, I'm _fine_!" Mike snapped. Zoey withdrew her hand as if she'd been burned.

"I'm just trying to figure out what's going on!" she said, her voice taking a wounded tone. "You've been like this before, but you told me you were fine, so I let it go... but this keeps happening. You're not fine. And I don't know why you can't tell me what you're feeling."

"I don't know what I feel, okay?" Mike said. "I don't... I don't feel anything."

"What can I do?" Zoey asked, her facial expression softening. She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder once more. "I want to help..."

"Nothing, really," Mike said, taking a disturbing disinterest in her touch. "There's nothing you can do."

"There has to be something!" she insisted. "I can't just leave you like this!"

"Yes you can," Mike said. "Stop worrying about me, okay? I'll be fine."

"But I need to help you-"

"No, you don't!" For the first time in Mike's life, he raised his voice at Zoey. She pulled back from him in surprise and stared at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.

"You... don't want my help?" she asked.

"Maybe you can't help, Zoey!" Mike continued on. "Maybe you can't fix everything like you want! Maybe..." Mike clutched his head as a sharp ache radiated through his brain. "Maybe I can't be fixed!"

"Stop talking like that." Zoey reached her hand out to him, but Mike swatted it away before she could touch him.

"It's the truth! I've been so upset recently, and I don't know what to do anymore..." The corners of his eyes stung, but he tried his best to not cry. He was already doing a good enough job at embarrassing himself in front of her, and he couldn't let it get any further.

"Maybe if you'd stop pushing me away-"

"I'm doing this for your own good!"

"Why can't you trust me?!" While Mike fought to hold back his tears, Zoey allowed her own to flow freely. "I love you, Mike! I want to help you! But you keep lying to me about your feelings! Why do you feel like you can't depend on me?!"

"Because I _shouldn't_!" Even as the words left his mouth, Mike mentally kicked himself for yelling at Zoey, of all people. And yet, he couldn't stop himself. Weeks worth of frustration poured out at their closest target, and now that the flood had started, Mike couldn't do anything to stop its flow. "I shouldn't have to rely on you! Is this really what you want? To have to take care of your broken down boyfriend for your entire life?! I shouldn't need you! I've been lying because I don't want you to feel like I need you!"

Zoey froze and stared ahead, like a stunned, scared animal. Mike's words hung in the air, filling the room with a tension that was only slightly penetrated by the sounds of Zoey trying to hold back tears.

"Is that it, Mike? You don't need me?"

Mike tried to hold back his next word, but it tumbled freely from his mouth along with the rest of his anger.

"No."

Zoey shook as she slowly rose to her feet. "Then... then maybe I should leave..."

"Maybe you should."

"If that's what you want..." Zoey slowly moved through the room to collect her possessions. The room plunged into silence once she removed her music player from the speaker; Mike hadn't realized the music still played until it stopped. Once she'd packed, Zoey pulled her bag's strap up to her shoulders and walked toward the door.

"Mike..." she said quietly through her tears. "I wish..." Suddenly, her voice rose to a yell. "I wish you'd just tell me the truth for once!" She yanked the front door open, then slammed it behind her, leaving Mike alone in the house.

She had a point... Mike had told her so many lies that night...

Mike clutched his head again and whispered the truth, although Zoey was no longer around to hear him.

"I need you..."

His headache pulsed harder as his mistake sank in.

"Zoey, I'm sorry... don't go..."

He should have said that earlier, and he knew it.

Mike slowly staggered to his feet. His head pounded so hard, he could barely see straight; the world around him blurred and spun, and every step he took threatened to take him down to the floor. As he stumbled his way to the stairs, a phrase kept echoing in his head, in a voice that belonged to no one but himself.

_I messed up... I messed up... god damn it, I messed up..._

Sleep... he needed sleep. All he could think of was the swirl of guilt, sadness, and unwarranted anger that had broken through his emotional barrier, and he wanted that tornado gone.

Sleep. Just an hour of sleep, and maybe then he'd be all right. He needed to relax. Get his mind off all this...

Mike didn't remember reaching his bedroom, but a mild wave of relief lapped at his ankles once he caught sight of his bed. He collapsed into it immediately, not bothering to change into pajamas or pull the blanket over his body. His line of sight caught his cell phone on his bedside table, and briefly, he considered calling Zoey and asking her to come back. Maybe they could nap together... even if he couldn't appreciate it now, maybe he would when he woke up, and then he'd be okay and they could get back to normal...

...no. He couldn't. Not after he just yelled at her and told her to get out.

He didn't get to treat her like dirt and then beg her to crawl back. How could he even consider that?

He rolled over to get the phone out of his sight, and as he fell asleep, he tried his best to push Zoey far out of his mind. If she wanted to come back, she would.

And if she didn't, that was his own damn fault...

* * *

He stood in an open field, with bright green grass dotted with flowers of all colors. The sun shone in the cloudless blue sky, a sky filled with chirping birds. A tree, apparently the only one in the field, towered behind them, its branches enveloped with healthy green leaves and large apples. Zoey stood in front of him and smiled, her head slightly tilted to the side.

_She's so beautiful..._

All he wanted out of life in that moment was to hug her close. To apologize to her, to tell her he loved her. She smiled at him now... did she forgive him? Of course she did... she was always so understanding... she loved him, she forgave him, she'd give him another chance and he wouldn't screw this up again...

"Zoey, I'm sorry! This won't happen again, I swear! I love you!" He lifted his hand up to reach out and touch her, but before his fingers could graze her skin...

"He's a liar."

A deep voice drifted through the air. Mike could recognize that threatening tone from anywhere...

_Damn it! Go away! You're going to ruin this!_

"He's lying to you. If he loved you, he wouldn't lie."

The smile faded from Zoey's face as her expression twisted into the tearful state he'd seen earlier. He never wanted to see her like this, especially not when he was the cause...

"Why did you lie to me?" she asked as tears ran from her eyes. As she spoke, the flowers and grass around him wilted to an ugly brown color. Their death started under his feet and extended outward, rapidly killing the field.

"I didn't!" Mike insisted, a lie in itself. "I- I didn't mean- I was just trying-" He stammered incoherently, unable to collect his thoughts with the guilt building inside him. Clouds rolled in above the pair, and a harsh wind whipped against his skin. "Zoey, I'm sorry-"

"Get away from me!" she screamed as she backed away from him. "I can't love a liar!"

"Zoey! Wait!" Mike grasped for her shoulders to try to stop her from leaving, but his hands went right through her body. She faded away at his attempted touch, and once she was gone, a cold, familiar laugh rang out and burrowed into Mike's ears. Mike looked up at the tree; its leaves and fruits had died away, leaving nothing but a few brown leaf crumbs and rotted apple cores at its base. Its bare branches waved in the chilling wind, but this didn't disturb the passenger that had taken a spot on one of them. A face identical to Mike's peered from the tree, its eyes glaring at him from behind a fringe of black hair. The figure's ankles and wrists were shackled, but the chains attached to the shackles weren't attached to anything. They instead floated in the air, with their ends fading into nothing rather than ending properly.

"Mal?!"

Mal jumped down from his branch and landed on his hands and feet directly in front of Mike. He locked eyes with Mike, his eyes still narrowed into a glare, his mouth stretched into a malicious grin. He drew himself up to his full height, his eyes never leaving Mike's.

"No," Mike whispered as he shook his head. "No, no, no, no-"

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Mal asked. "You're stammering like a frightened child. Try speaking up if you want me to hear you. If I had to guess, though, I'd assume you're telling yet another lie."

"Why are you here?!" Mike said. "You can't be here! I chained you up!"

"Obviously," Mal said as he lifted his arm and rattled the chain attached to it. He yanked his arm down and shouted in pain as he pulled the chain taut, allowing the shackle to dig into his wrist. "I still haven't been able to break these things, unfortunately," he said, wincing as he rubbed his injured wrist. "But all that means is that I can't use the body. I still hear what goes on inside our head... you're a very loud thinker. Makes it hard to sleep sometimes."

"You hear me think?"

"I can't now, but I can when you're awake," Mal said. "I hear whoever's in control. Most of the time, none of you have anything interesting to say – Vito is particularly annoying – but sometimes, it helps keep me in the loop. It's not fair for you to keep any of us uninformed about what's going on with our body."

"Like you ever told me what you were doing." Mike's words flowed from his mouth before he could consider holding them back.

"Well! Someone's getting cocky!" Mal said. "Is it because you're finally ready to start telling the truth again? From what I heard earlier, you've told a lot of lies today. I guess being honest with your girlfriend is too difficult for you to handle."

"That's none of your business."

"You made it my business when you wouldn't shut up about it," Mal said. "I can never ignore you even if I wanted to. I think I have a pretty good picture of what's going on... you've been lying to Zoey about your feelings, haven't you? It sounds like she hates you now."

"Zoey doesn't hate me!" Mike insisted. "She's... she's a little mad at me... but she'll come back! She loves me!"

"Does she?" Mal asked. "Do you really think she's obligated to keep loving a lying coward like you?"

"I'm not a coward!"

"You were too afraid to tell your girlfriend, the person who promised you could confide in her, about your feelings. Do you know what being too afraid to do something simple makes you? A coward!"

"Stop it!" Mike yelled. "Get away from me! You shouldn't even be here!"

"You've always been a coward, Mike. You've always been too afraid to ask for help. It almost got you killed all those years ago, remember? If I wasn't brave enough to fight back, you'd be dead. Don't you ever forget who the strong one is."

"I don't want to be your kind of strong!" Mike continued yelling, but Mal kept on talking, his demeanor unaffected. Mike may as well have aimed his arguments at the tree behind him.

"Even now, you're not hiding your cowardice," Mal continued. "You're not fighting back now, either."

"Of course I am! I'm telling you to leave!"

"Is that all you have? Words? That's boring. Come on, Mike. Take a swing at me."

Mike stood still, feeling as dead and rooted to the ground as the tree. The solution to this problem displayed so easily in his mind; step forward, punch Mal in his smug face, and move on from all this. And yet, he couldn't do it.

He didn't want to have to fight. He didn't want this to be a problem in the first place. All Mike wanted was to go back to sleep and wake up to a world where this wasn't happening...

"It's all right," said Mal. "Just close your eyes and pretend everything's okay. That's how you deal with your problems, isn't it?"

"Stop it! _Stop it!_"

"That's your flaw, Mike. You run until you're cornered, and then you do something stupid to get out of the trap you got yourself stuck in. That's why you're here now. Zoey cornered you, and so you shoved her out of the way because it was easier than admitting that you messed up.

And that, Mike, is what makes you a coward."

Feeling returned to Mike's legs, but it couldn't give him the courage to confront Mal like he knew he should. Instead, all he wanted was escape. He backed away from Mal, unable to break his gaze. Getting far enough away from Mal that he couldn't hear his words anymore weighed on Mike's mind, to the exclusion of any other thought. All the while, he continued screaming for this to stop and trying to reclaim his breath.

"Where are you going?" Mal called. "Are you running from your problems again? You're not going to try to stop me, are you? You're not going to do anything. You're going to keep running until you finally break. I know you by now. I should have expected this..."

"You're still chained up!" Mike said. "You can't come after me anymore!"

"I don't need to!" Mal said, grinning even wider. "All I need to do is talk! You'll never escape my voice! This is the end for you, Mike. You cut off one of your major supports with your stupid mistakes. All you can do now is wait for the fall a coward like you deserves!"

"NO!" Mike screamed, but Mal didn't falter. Mal's laughter echoed through the night as the wind howled around them. The noises around Mike overwhelmed him and prevented him from straightening out his thoughts. The howling of the wind, Mal's cruel laughter, the cracks from the tree as the wind broke its branches-

A loud beeping noise, plastic vibrating against wood-

Mike slowly opened his eyes at this newest noise. It didn't sound like it came from within his head...

And clearly, it didn't. In the darkness of his room, his cell phone lit up and shook, beeping to alert him of something. He slowly sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, then grabbed his phone to see what it wanted to tell him.

_10 PM – take night pills_

How long was he asleep? Thinking about it, he couldn't even remember what time Zoey left. He briefly considered dismissing the alarm and going back to sleep...

...but even with all the noise in his head, he still recognized how counterproductive that action would be. He'd only end up feeling even worse in the morning. So against his body's will, he dragged himself out of bed and shuffled his way to the bathroom. _It's just one action,_ he told himself. _I'll take my pills, then I'll go back to bed._

_ Maybe I'll have a better dream this time..._

That's what it was, wasn't it? It had to be a dream. There was no way that conversation with Mal really happened.

After all, he saw it all happen last summer. Mal's wild grin as he tried to push his sword into Mike's heart... Mike pushing back with encouragement from the other alters... the chains trapping Mal on his throne...

All that happened. Mike knew it did. It was only a few months ago. Even if he couldn't keep Mal trapped forever, he couldn't be back this soon, could he?

He did say he wasn't technically back, that he was only a voice... but did that even make sense...?

Mike shook that thought from his mind as he filled a cup in the bathroom sink. It wasn't worth the energy. All he saw was a nightmare; it wasn't relevant to anything. His recent troubles and his fight with Zoey just got to him, is all... he'd take his medicine, go back to bed, and feel much better in the morning. Maybe he'd call her when he woke up and they could put all this behind them.

He drained the last of the water from the cup as he swallowed his last pill, then stared in the mirror as he wiped his mouth dry. His hair was an even bigger disaster than usual; he hadn't had the energy to try brushing it recently. Pieces stuck out in random directions, including a section that hung down between his eyes. His eyes had also seen better days... dark bags, developed after several days in a row where he couldn't get a good night's sleep without waking from another nightmare, encircled his emotionally dead eyes. Zoey must not have wanted to upset him; otherwise, she surely would have pointed out that his poor self-care had left him looking like a corpse.

Hair hanging down, darkened eyes... before Mike's vision, the reflection in the mirror twisted, showing him a laughing figure that shared his face, but was very much not him.

Running on pure adrenaline and instinct, Mike screamed and punched the image. None of the glass shards fell from the mirror's frame, but a loud cracking sound rang out as a web of cracks extended from where he punched. He looked in the mirror again; he had his own reflection back, but due to the mirror's cracks, he saw it six times in various sections of the mirror.

_Six Mikes... the mirror knows you well._

Mike jumped back from the mirror and pressed himself against the wall, trying to back as far away from it as he could.

_Why are you running from the mirror? That's not where my voice is coming from._

"Leave me alone!" Mike whispered, clutching his arms and shivering. "Why are you doing this?" Tears that had begged for freedom all night finally found their way out from the corners of his eyes. With no one else around, Mike felt no more need to hold back. Tears ran down his cheeks, tears of anger and sadness and fear, as he choked on his breaths.

_What do you have to cry about, coward?_ Mal asked from within Mike's head. _Is it guilt over what you did to Zoey? She should be the one crying, not you. Stop making this about you._

"I'm not trying to... I just..." he whispered as he continued to shake. "I know this was my fault... but you don't need to keep reminding me! Why should you even care?"

_I'm your protector, remember? Isn't that what the doctors call me?_ Mal said. _So I should protect you from your own stupid mistakes, shouldn't I? Think of it as negative reinforcement. If I make it painful for you to mess up, you won't want to mess up again. I'm doing you a favor._

"Stop lying!" Mike said. "I know you just like messing with me! You don't care at all, do you?"

_Perceptive. If you know me that well, then why did you ask?_

Mike didn't reply. His knees buckled underneath him and he slowly slid down the wall, breathing heavily the entire time. He soon found himself sitting on the bathroom tile, but it did nothing to help his drained energy, physical or emotional.

He could sleep there... sleep there, and never wake up...

_To tell the truth, I couldn't give less of a shit what happens between you and the girl. What do you see in such a gullible child, anyway? It doesn't matter. She's no use to me when she's enjoying you and injecting some worth into your pathetic existence. __However..._

A quick flash of Mal's murderous smile filled Mike's mind.

_The upside about __you __having someone you love so much is, that person also has more power to hurt you than anyone. She's the one who makes you feel like you're worth anything. So what happens when she leaves and takes her affection with her?_

"I don't need her..." Mike mumbled. "I don't need her, I don't, I don't... I love her, I want her around... but I don't _need_ her... I shouldn't... I should survive on my own... I should be able to..."

_You're lying again, coward!_ Mal snarled, scaring Mike into silence. _The way I see it, you have two options. You can hand over your dependent, depressed, worthless wreck of a life to me, so I can do something much more useful with it than you ever could... or you can continue skating through life, depending on other people to make you feel like more than trash, and popping pills for the rest of your days so that you stay aware enough of what a waste of time you really are._

_ So what's it going to be, Michael?_

"Neither!" Mike screamed. "I'll get better! I'll fix this! I'll get off the pills, I'll find my own worth... I can make something out of all this! I know I can!" Even as Mike shouted, unsure if he was trying to convince Mal or himself, the tears still rolled down his face. "I can... I can do this..."

_Oh, cry me a river, Mike, _Mal sneered. _You're crying like a baby in the middle of the bathroom floor, and you think you can actually be something important? You can't even be trusted alone! Look what you did to the mirror! Your parents aren't going to be happy..._

"I'll get rid of you!" Mike insisted through his tears. "I'll... I'll get rid of you, and I'll become something without you, I swear! I don't need you! I never did!"

_You? Get rid of me? You've tried twice now. It's never going to work. You're always going to break down like this, and when you're showing yourself as clearly too incompetent to own this mind, guess who's going to be there to take his rightful place? The weaker you get, the stronger my hold is, just as it should be. Why do you think you can hear me now? You've become too weak to tune me out like you always do! Too weak to hide from the truth!_

"I don't need to listen to you!" Mike continued. "You're lying! You've always been a liar! Even you don't believe all this, do you? You're just trying to break me! That's all you've ever done! I won't listen anymore!"

_I'm not lying, _Mal insisted. _You just don't want to admit I'm right. But you're in the wrong here, and you know it._

"I messed up... I know I did..." Mike admitted. "But I'll fix it, and I'll fix it without your help. I'm not worthless. I'll prove it."

_Go ahead and try. But if you're still like this tomorrow, this mind is mine. These chains can't hold me forever... but with you, they may have better luck._

"I'll prove it," Mike repeated as he drew his knees up to his chest. He felt his consciousness fading... was someone else taking over, or did sleep finally want to claim him again...?

He rested his forehead on his knees and took a series of deep breaths in an effort to regulate himself. Chatter still filled his mind, but he could no longer place any words or speakers.

Mike closed his eyes, and in an instant, everything faded.

He didn't dream that time.

* * *

An incessant ringing noise drilled through Mike's skull and tried to drag him out of his slumber.

"Go away," he grumbled as he reached for his blanket, but his hand found nothing of the sort. Strange... when did his bed become so hard and cold?

_Oh. Bathroom. Right._

Mike expected a scathing remark in response to his own thought, but nothing came forward. Was he finally alone? Was he finally free? Could he finally have silence?

Well, silence wasn't on the list. The ringing continued hitting Mike's head like an ice pick, never letting up for an instant. Mike soon recognized it as the sound of the doorbell.

Who'd be slamming on the doorbell at this hour?

What hour _was_ it?

Mike's tired mind tempted him to write it off as an unwanted guest, but even the most persistent of evangelists would have given up a long time ago. He couldn't figure out who would be so desperate to get him to answer the door, but whoever it was, clearly they weren't going to give up until he went to see them. He pushed his aching body off the floor, and after making a mental note to _never_ sleep on a tile floor ever again, he headed down to the living room to finally stop the ringing. As he turned the doorknob, he prepared himself to say, calmly but firmly, that he wasn't interested in buying a vacuum cleaner or a bag of popcorn or whatever was being sold.

Instead of a salesperson, Zoey stood on the other side of the door, a terrified expression on her face.

"Mike!" she cried. "Mike, you're okay! I've been calling the house and your cell, and I've been ringing the doorbell and knocking, but you weren't answering... I got so scared... I thought you- I thought something happened... another minute and I... I might have called the police..."

"I was asleep and didn't hear any of it... I'm sorry for worrying you..."

_Oh god, I scared her that much...?_

"I'm just happy to see you're okay..." Zoey said. "You... you _are_ okay, right?"

"Ye-" he started, before remembering that lying got him into this mess to begin with. "I've felt better," he admitted.

"Can I come in?" Zoey asked.

"Please?"

At Mike's request, Zoey lunged at Mike and wrapped her arms around him. She hugged him tight as she buried her face against his chest and sobbed against his shirt. Mike slammed the front door shut, then hugged her back and stroked her hair.

"It's okay..." he whispered. "I'm okay... I'm safe, I promise..."

"I shouldn't have left!" Zoey wailed. "You weren't feeling good, and I just left you alone! What if something happened?! It would have been my fault!"

"Don't blame yourself," Mike said, trying not to cry himself. He did quite enough of that yesterday. "I shouldn't have yelled at you... I know you wanted to help..." As he spoke, Mike walked Zoey over to the couch, then sat down with her still crying in his lap.

"What happened last night?" Zoey asked. "What was going on?"

"I've been really down on myself," Mike confessed. "I haven't had the energy to do much, and I kept beating myself up over the smallest things... it started out simple and I thought I could get over it on my own, but it kept getting worse. I thought maybe inviting you over for the weekend could help me get my mind off it... I didn't want to think about it anymore... but then you brought it up and... I snapped, I guess. I told myself I had to handle this on my own, so when I started considering your offer of help... that just made me hate myself even more. And then I ended up taking my hate out on you. I still can't believe I did that... I can't apologize enough for that..."

"I shouldn't have pushed," Zoey said. "You didn't want to talk about it... I should have listened..."

"You were trying to help. That's what people do for the people they love, isn't it? I can't blame you."

Zoey's tears gradually faded away, but she kept her head against his chest. "What happened after I left?"

"Mal talked to me."

"Mal?!" Zoey cried in surprise. She bolted upright, then gripped one of Mike's arms and ran her fingers up and down it. "Did he... did he hurt you...?"

"Not physically," Mike said. "But he kept calling me worthless... kept reminding me how bad I messed up last night... kept telling me that since I messed up like that, I don't deserve the body anymore..."

"You know he's lying, right?" Zoey said. "It was just one mistake... I was upset, but it's not like this is a common thing... and you're apologizing now. Doesn't that count for something?" She rested against his chest again. "Please don't leave. I don't care how you'd leave, I just don't want you to do it... I wouldn't like losing you."

"I lied last night when I said I didn't need you," Mike said.

"I need you, too... so hearing you didn't... that's what really hurt... even if I knew it was your emotions talking, I couldn't stand hearing that..."

"I'm so sorry... I'll be more honest. I promise."

"And I won't push so hard if you really don't want to talk. I know you need to handle some things yourself... I should at least give you a chance to..."

The pair sat in silence for a while, as Mike continued running his fingers through her hair. Her eyes remained puffy with tears and she still gripped him as if he'd disappear if she let go, but her breaths had calmed down from earlier.

"Is Mal really back?" Zoey asked.

"He can't use the body now... but I can still hear him. I don't think I'll ever stop hearing him. Not for long."

"You'll get through this. I know you can... and I'm here to help if you need me... please trust me... is there anything I can do now?"

"I want to sleep," Mike said. "I passed out in the bathroom last night, so I didn't sleep that good. I think sleeping's all I want to do today. Will you join me?"

"Of course." Zoey kissed his lips briefly enough that he couldn't return the favor, and then the two headed for his room. They slid underneath his covers without bothering to change out of their street clothes, and Mike wrapped his arms around Zoey as she rested against his shoulder.

Her soft skin underneath his fingertips... the sweet way she always smelled... the warmth of her body... the steady rhythm of her breaths...

'Happy' was still too strong a word to describe Mike's emotions in that moment. He still had a long way to go before he'd feel comfortable with that word again.

But this time, at least he could sense Zoey and gain some sort of peace from this.

"I love you," he whispered as he slipped into a mercifully restful sleep.

And for the first time in days, Mike smiled.


End file.
